Race Category
Aussie chick
Posted on January 30, 2020 12 Comments
“Good morning!” The man hailing me adjusted his hearing aid with one hand and waved with the other. His neatly pressed shorts stood to stiff attention around his thin legs — more a cordon than clothing. His short-sleeved shirt and sturdy leather sandals completed the image of a man who took pride in his appearance […]
Morning walk
Posted on January 16, 2020 10 Comments
Dear Walking Group Women, I see you, my siblings, and I ignore you. Namaste. Or Peace Be With You. Or May the Odds be Ever in Your Favour. Or whatever version of in-tune, en pointe (on point? On pointe? On-ee point-ee?), in-the-moment greeting du jour holds currency right now. And yes, I did roll my […]
Ripples
Posted on March 28, 2019
Ripples from the Christchurch terror attacks are still spreading. YeahWrite Nonfiction #415
Lost: A tale of an impatient child and the lure of televised cricket
Posted on January 3, 2018 2 Comments
When I was ten years old, my father lost me. Like a set of misplaced keys, or the wallet he was certain he put down on the kitchen table, he set me down, and when he returned, I was gone. As with every summer since I was eight and nearly drowned at my friend’s birthday […]
Dark Skinned Reality
Posted on May 4, 2017 10 Comments
The child of migrant parents, I grew up walking in two worlds, fitting comfortably into neither. In the 1980s beauty role models who looked like me were non-existent in the western society my family made their home. They were equally absent in the culture of my heritage.
A Colonial History by any other Name Would be as Violent
Posted on January 25, 2017
Huzzah! It’s January 26th in Australia. The day our nation officially goes into meltdown every year over whether we should celebrate or not.
Then and Now
Posted on October 30, 2016 1 Comment
Gather round, grab a bean bag, get comfortable. I’ve got some things to get off my chest, so let’s start with my story of expatriation and repatriation. On the 1st of February 1975, my parents and I arrived in Australia from Brunei as new migrants. My mother was 41, my father 47. I wasn’t […]
I’m Outraged. Now What?
Posted on July 7, 2016
So, you’ve been on Facebook and Twitter over the last two days, and maybe you’ve seen your US friends posting furiously about Alton Sterling and Philando Castile. You might’ve read many articles and watched the videos (if you are not Black, then I encourage you strongly to watch the videos. They are harrowing, but necessary for […]
Some reading over Memorial Day weekend
Posted on May 27, 2016
It’s miserable weather here in Houston. Day 2 of a raging thunderstorm sees the dogs cowering next to me at my writing table, and the children home. Last night was more than a little rough, with periodic alarms from flash flood warnings punctuating my sleep, and an automated phone call from the school at 4.29am (I […]
A Note to my 13 Year Old Self
Posted on March 2, 2016 1 Comment
It’s Wednesday and already it’s been a long week. With one thing after another piling up and nagging at me to catch up and keep up. There’s a point here, bear with me! My clever, funny, powerhouse friend Avital runs a weekly column over at SheKnows called Ask A Raging Feminist. Each week Avital asks […]
Asha Rajan 